


The Road Traveled

by Tamuril2



Series: Walking in the Stars [9]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:45:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7652608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamuril2/pseuds/Tamuril2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles O'Brien knew he should've taken the Starbase 12 offer. He knew it. But nooo he just had to go to Deep Space 9. Had to. Well, serves him right then, dealing with this Doctor Bashir. He should've seen this coming. AU. No slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road Traveled

**Author's Note:**

> Hummingbird2 asked for a story explaining when Miles started calling Julian 'Jules, but...I couldn't find it, so I wrote a total AU. Hope you like it, my dear.

When they first meet, Miles can only think of Bashir as loud and brash, while also being naïve and _way_ too open for his own good. How does one man talk so much without passing out? And all while maintaining that peppy smile. Miles thinks that’s what really made him refuse to call Bashir by his first name. Seeing that innocent, susceptible gaze honed in on him, trusting that he, Miles, won’t lead the doctor astray. Wanting only friendship with nothing else attached. It cracked something in Miles. Made him snark out a harsh comment – _is that an order?_ – and ignore the puzzled look it brought.

Because it hurts Miles to think of what a few more months, maybe years (if the doctor is lucky), will do to this young man; distort his view of the vast space, darken the shadows in his room, and disrupt his sleep.  It’d happened to Westley, Barkley, Data, heck, even Picard had gotten soured to the “adventure” of space. And now, here Miles is again, with yet another enthusiastic rooky -  _No, I’d just prefer it if you called me by my first name._

It sickens him.

It makes him want to cry – manly tears, of course.

It causes him to push Bashir as far away from him as possible.

 

0/0/0/0/0

 

_“Look, we’re not friends, or anything, so stop hanging over my shoulder!” Miles hisses, trying to make sure his subordinates don’t hear this._

_Bashir’s cheeks flush and he draws himself up. “I wasn’t hanging over you. I merely wanted to make sure you were keeping yourself to light duty. You’ll pull your shoulder out again, if you’re not careful.”_

_“Well, thank you very much, but I can look after myself.” Miles snaps as he smacks the data pad down on the table. A couple of ensigns glance over, but Miles glares them into submission._

_“I didn’t say you couldn’t!” Bashir splutters._

_“No?” Miles raises an eyebrow. “And you coming around at all hours isn’t undermining my authority? You’ve even got that Vulcan girl concerned.”_

_I…” Bashir sighs. “I didn’t mean to do that. Of course, you’re capable. I’m…I’m sorry for bothering you.”_

_Miles glares after him, and hopes the man got the message this time round._

 

0/0/0/0

 

But the doctor doesn’t take the insults as a hint to get lost. No indeed. He comes right back, every time. Fixes Miles up when he gets nicked in the Jeffery Tubes, jokes with him when they bump into each other at Quark’s, smiles just as brightly – if not albeit a bit more forced – and sticks with everyone through the hard times. Miles can’t hold onto his anger for very long.

Feels like kicking a puppy or slapping a kid’s ice-cream cone outta their hand.

Wrong.

On so many levels.

So, Miles gives into the fact that Bashir will stay a permanent fixture in his life on DS9. For however long that is.

“You sitting with anyone?” he asks, stifling the sigh that wants to escape at the same time. He’s really asking for it, encouraging Bahir like this.

Bashir’s head jerks up to face him, eyes blinking wide and fast. The look of shock that crosses the young man’s stare makes Miles throat tighten. He really has been a jerk. The doctor straightens from his hunched position over his pad and shakes his head. “No. It’s open?”

Miles nods and sits down before he can give into his instincts and run. “Good.”

He stabs into a piece of steak. Bashir watches him like a Ferengi would a last piece of latinum. Miles tries to focus on his meal, but the laser vision burns into him. He wonders if anyone else is noticing the weird way the doctor is studying him. And then Miles can’t help feeling self-conscious and embarrassed.

“What?” he snaps out.

“Why are you here?” Bashir says, slow and with a bit of caution attached.

“It’s my break. I’m hungry.” Miles snarks back. “And Quark’s is too expensive for every day.”

“There are plenty of other seats. Why me?”

The _you hate me_ hangs unsaid.

Miles does sigh now, putting his fork down. “Look. I’ve got a temper. It’s bad. My wife’s always going on about it. Sometimes…sometimes I just have trouble trusting people, so I’m rude. Okay?”

Bashir’s face lights up. “Okay.”

“Now, don’t you be getting a weird ideas. We’re not friends and I don’t want to see you at my room door for movie nights. Bad enough that Odo guy comes around every time his lights flicker.”

“Of course, of course,” Bashir gushes.

Great. He’s done it now. The doctor’s never going to leave him alone. Miles is stuck with him forever. He attempts to rein the doctor in a bit. “And I’m not calling you ‘Julian’.”

 Pain flies through Bashir’s eyes. “Oh…yes…of course. That…that would be forward, wouldn’t it? I must apologize for my earlier presumption. I’m afraid I’ve never been good with social etiquette.”

Miles curses to himself. Why does Bashir have to make an apology sound like Miles is in the wrong? It’s not too much, asking for breathing room and time. But, nooo, Bashir just has to flash those puppy eyes. Hang him.

“I like Jules better,” he hears himself say. “Fits you.”

Something else goes through Bashir – a shudder? – but then he smiles softly. “Jules. I like it.”

He stands abruptly, and Miles can only blink up at him. “Where’re you going?”

“Sickbay. My breaks almost over, and there’s a deligate there who I can’t leave for too long.” Bashir pauses. “Perhaps we could play some tennis or racket sometime?”

“Tennis? People still play that?”

“Well…if it’s too much, I can find a chess set.”

Miles shivers. “Nope, tennis is fine.”

He doesn’t’ even want to think about playing Bashir in chess. He’d probably cackle or something.

“Right. I’ll see you then.” Bashir says.

“Okay…” Miles watches him leave. That might be the most interesting conversation he’s had in a long time. Oh, Keiko’s not going to let him live this one down. He’d ranted for ten minutes last time about the annoyance. Now, they’ve got a standing date. Great. She’ll probably send flowers for the doctor.

Leaving Miles to explain the bizarre ‘welcome to our family’ tradition.

And with his chances, he’d somehow get hurt during this tennis match and have to carted off to Sickbay too. There to endure Bashir’s sympathy and smiles. Great. Just wonderful. He was never going with his heart ever again. Next thing you know, he’d be eating lunches with that Cardassian.


End file.
